


Delivered

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Mild Language, Ministry of Magic, Plot Based on Book/Film, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3718867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Draco’s project for the Department of Mysteries produced startling results.  But then, what else could have been expected of such a partnership?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivered

**Author's Note:**

> Remix of: (film) You've Got Mail  
> Beta: charlottetrips

_Hermione squealed as she saw the silvery creature take shape. She felt that same thrill of excitement that she’d had when she successfully produced her Patronus for the first time during that memorable DA meeting. This otter was more solid-looking than her Patronus, but it still gamboled about playfully. After fondly watching it swim about the room for several minutes, she finally directed it toward her impatient partner._

_The creature hovered in front of him and glowed, awaiting the command to speak. Malfoy growled the proper acknowledgement, and her otter opened its mouth. “Greetings, Draco Malfoy, from your charming, witty, intelligent partner.”_

***

Subconsciously, Hermione could sense that there was something in bed with her. She didn't want to deal with it right now. Maybe, if she pretended...

"GRANGER!"

Hermione yelped and watched grumpily as the translucent, silver snow leopard disappeared in a whiff of smoke, having delivered its message. _Sodding prat, buggering arse, knobless git!_ It was all a game to him, wasn't it? The three months it took to develop this spell, reduced to such juvenile abusage. She mentally slapped herself for her naivete. She should've thought to create a magical barrier the creature couldn't cross. She wondered if a strong Shield Charm ...

"GRANGER!"

"GRANGER!"

"GRANGER!"

"ARE YOU AWAKE YET?"

Four more silver snow leopards vanished into mist. _Bugger the sod to hell!_ Cross off Shield Charm, then. Perhaps she should take a page from Mme Curie and use a thick block of lead—assuming, of course, that leaden thoughts could literally be thus deterred. This was giving her a headache, and she had yet to recover from the accident that'd landed her in Mungo's in the first place.

Sighing at the inevitable, Hermione gathered her thoughts in preparation to send a message of her own.

 _Cogitato!_

The wandless, non-verbal spell took the last bit of energy she had. She closed her eyes and prayed she could have an hour of peace and quiet.

***

_Malfoy’s eyes met hers, and he glowered. Closing his eyes briefly, he paused, but a moment, before producing his own creature. Hermione was startled to see it take shape and amble confidently, almost lazily, toward her. She had never seen Malfoy produce a Patronus, but now she knew what form it would take. The snow leopard came up to her and touched its nose to her hand. She yelped as the creature intoned. “There’s many a woman has more hair than wit.”_

_“Malfoy, you meat-headed maggot! The creature’s only supposed to glow to announce an incoming message, not shock the recipient!”_

_“What if the recipient isn’t aware of the creature? What if the message is more urgent? There should be ways of making sure the message is received. We’ll call this the medium-level of urgency.”_

_“There are other,_ nicer _ways of attracting a person’s attention, you know.”_

_“But this is simple and effective.”_

_“Fine, but we should decrease the voltage.”_

_“The what?”_

_“The amount of shock. Honestly, it’s not as if you don’t know what electricity is.”_

_“Just because I’m aware of it doesn’t mean I’m an expert on Muggle technology.”_

_“I thought you were an expert on everything.”_

_“Of importance and significance in the wizarding world, yes. A person can’t know absolutely_ everything _. Even Dumbledore had holes in his vast knowledge, I’m sure. And since I wouldn’t dare claim to be on the same level as the old codger, I will gracefully concede that I’m only an expert on things that matter.”_

_“You’re really insufferable, you know?”_

***

Draco smirked. The witch’s feeble attempts at hitting below the belt were laughable. What was even more amusing was how easily he could bring her to that level of tactics. Too much time spent hanging around the witless Potty and the flea-bitten Weasel King. Good thing she had him to stimulate her mind.

When their superior had paired them up to work on their first project, Draco had resigned himself to his fate: this was his punishment for having been on the losing side of the war, even though he’d never wanted to be there. It had been a choice between working for the Dark Lord or being _Avada_ ’d and watching his parents suffer that fate, which was no choice at all. But that didn’t matter to the victors, for they wrote the histories, and it was their opinions that mattered. So, he reined in his resentment, tempered his conversations, and generally attempted to conform to their odious definition of “decency”. 

His resolve fell to the wayside after working a week in close proximity with Granger. Forced equanimity soon vanished in the face of the cantankerous, demanding, opinionated, condescending know-it-all. It was all he could do to not throttle her every time he laid eyes on her. More bewildering, though, was the fact that, after the altercation that nearly got them both fired, they acceded to a set of boundaries that led from mutual tolerance to mutual respect. Draco was still puzzled at times, trying to discern how they reached that point. They still fought, of course—they weren’t Hufflepuffs—often as a result of their different approaches to problems, but they also challenged each other. Well, that’s what Granger called it. He thought it was more honest to say that they loved trumping each other.

Naturally, it was their innate competitiveness that had landed them in Mungo’s. Testing the limits of their new creation had gotten a bit out of hand. According to their scowling superior, it would take at least a week to set their offices right and could they please not show up for another week after that, even if the Healers discharged them? Well, he would take a well-deserved vacation. All would be forgiven once they showed off their creation. And meanwhile, they could continue to test the creature’s range of abilities. That was, if the obstinate witch would cooperate. Maybe some bedtime persuasion would convince her.

Meanwhile, if it was only an hour that she wanted, an hour she would get. He was nothing if not punctual. There were already several messages he could fire off at a moment’s notice. Meanwhile, he’d fiddle some more with the creature. 

His non-urgent creature sat at the foot of his bed, glowing brightly before intoning, “Harry Potter is a gormless git!” and disappearing soon after. Draco chuckled. 

His medium-level creature ambled on its padded paws toward his hand before it took a swipe and caused the jolt that alerted the recipient of a message. Then, it opened its jaws and sang the complete version of “Weasley is Our King!” After the last “king”, it vanished as well. 

Draco grinned. Practice was definitely improving his comfort with the spell, resulting in a more defined and solid creature and a greater sophistication of deliverable message. His creature—he’d eventually wear Granger down and make her accept its name as a “Mnemon”—was also developing personality traits. That last one had twitched its ears as it approached, and the swipe of its paw was a new gesture; it had previously only touched its nose to the closest body part to cause the jolt. 

Draco took a quick look at his watch and saw that he still had another fifteen minutes. Knowing he had more than enough time, he smiled as he settled down to listen to six of his feline Mnemons recite the complete formula for brewing the Draught of the Living Death.

***

_“IT IS MANIFEST THEN THAT PRIMARY THINGS BECOME NECESSARILY KNOWN TO US BY INDUCTION, FOR THUS SENSIBLE PERCEPTION PRODUCES THE UNIVERSAL. BUT SINCE, OF THOSE HABITS WHICH ARE ABOUT INTELLECT, BY WHICH WE ASCERTAIN TRUTH, SOME ARE ALWAYS TRUE, BUT OTHERS ADMIT THE FALSE, AS OPINION, AND REASONING, BUT SCIENCE, AND INTELLECT, ARE ALWAYS TRUE, AND NO OTHER KIND OF KNOWLEDGE, EXCEPT INTELLECT, IS MORE ACCURATE THAN SCIENCE, BUT THE PRINCIPLES OF DEMONSTRATION ARE MORE KNOWN, AND ALL SCIENCE IS CONNECTED WITH REASON, THERE COULD NOT BE A SCIENCE OF PRINCIPLES: BUT SINCE NOTHING CAN BE MORE TRUE THAN SCIENCE EXCEPT INTELLECT, INTELLECT WILL BELONG TO PRINCIPLES, AND TO THOSE WHO CONSIDER FROM THESE IT IS EVIDENT ALSO, THAT AS DEMONSTRATION IS NOT THE PRINCIPLE OF DEMONSTRATION, SO NEITHER IS SCIENCE THE PRINCIPLE OF SCIENCE. IF THEN WE HAVE NO OTHER TRUE GENUS (OF HABIT) BESIDES SCIENCE, INTELLECT WILL BE THE PRINCIPLE OF SCIENCE: IT WILL ALSO BE THE PRINCIPLE (OF THE KNOWLEDGE) OF THE PRINCIPLE, BUT ALL THIS SUBSISTS SIMILARLY WITH RESPECT TO EVERY THING.”_

_“Grishnákh's fetid feet!”_

_“Really, Granger, that’s the best you can do? You need to work on those wandless cursing abilities of yours.”_

_“Malfoy,_ why _is your creature screaming rubbish like a Howler?”_

_“It’s not rubbish! It’s Aristotle! Are you illiterate? So much for that love of reading for knowledge you keep harping about.”_

_“I’m sorry, I rather missed the logic in the loudness. There’s no reason to use a howling creature to deliver messages.”_

_“There is if you’re trying to alert a partner or colleague in a life-or-death situation, like the two cretins of yours who call themselves Aurors. Or do you think this spell too advanced for their usage? I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that. But even if they can’t make use of our creature, surely other, more competent Aurors could? Or are you planning to selfishly keep this creation for your own use? Rather defeats the purpose of the project, wouldn’t you say? Ha, rather speechless now, aren’t you? The one time I cannot be accused of selfishness, and it’s the bleeding-heart Gryffindor who objects.”_

_“For the record, I don’t object to the_ concept _of using the creature for different situations. However, I have_ very _strong objections to the_ manner _with which the messages, urgent or not, are to be delivered! The creature was created to be a convenient means of communication, and as such, should not cause harm in the process! Have you considered what reaction the unsuspecting recipient may have to such an explosive message? What if he or she had a heart attack as a result? It would defeat the warning altogether! You can quote Aristotelian logic all you want, but that doesn’t mean that you’re good at logistics!”_

_“You’re just sore you didn’t think of the idea first.”_

_“I’m not. I’m upset that you interrupted my perfecting the jolting form of the creature so that it alerts without, again,_ causing harm. _If you insist on playing with this new howling form, go into the next room and don’t let me hear you! Ow! You prat—ow—stop that—ow—tone the fucking jolts down—ow-OW!”_

_“Granger is a sore loser!”_

_“Granger can’t stand to be beaten!”_

_“Granger is a selfish witch!”_

_“Granger sorted into Gryffindor because she wasn’t smart enough for Ravenclaw!”_

_“Granger is the third member of The Golden Just-So because they are all just. so. stupid!”_

_“SLYTHERINS RULE!”_

_Hermione disappeared behind the cloud of silvery smoke. As it cleared, she could see other snow leopards approaching._

_“That’s it! This is war!_ Silencio! Diffindo! Reducto! Expulso! Confringo! Evanesco! _”_

_KA-BOOM!_

***

Hermione couldn’t sleep. She wanted to, but she also knew that even having fifteen minutes of peace and quiet meant that Malfoy was planning something. And that he’d been silent for almost an hour meant that the scheme would be unpleasant for her. She sighed. Why she put up with the wanker …

Her watch showed that her hour was almost up, and she was about to beat him to the punch when that hated feeling of queasiness churned in her stomach. _Blast! Of all the inconvenient times to_ … she ran to the washroom.

As she leaned against the porcelain bowl of the toilet, trying hard not to let her face touch its rim, she noticed the glowing feline sitting beside her. She sighed but supposed she ought to be grateful he hadn’t sent the howling version right off the bat. _That_ creature would not wait even a minute for the command before spewing its contents, recipient’s state of readiness be damned. In as loud and as steady a voice as possible, she whispered, _“Loquere!”_

“Has our disgruntled Gryffindoress gotten enough beauty sleep to be useful again?” 

Hermione blinked. The creature _winked_ at her before, well, winking out of existence! It was acquiring a personality! Mustering her strength, she groped her way back to her bed to grab a glass of water. Feeling a bit more refreshed, she focussed her thoughts, composed a snarling reply, and watched as a silvery, glistening strand emerged from the turn on the crown of her head to expand and reshape itself into the familiar form of an otter. She watched it gambole toward the wall and disappear. Exhausted, she flopped onto the bed.

The door of her hospital room banged open, and Draco demanded, “What do you mean you’re vomiting, leave you alone? Are you sick? Why didn’t you call the Healer? It could be contagious, you know.” 

“You are an insensitive, selfish sod, did you know that, Draco Malfoy? I don’t have the energy to argue with you. Go away!”

“Not until the Healer confirms that what you have isn’t infectious!”

“You’re such a germophobe!”

“Call it what you want, I just don’t enjoy being sick. Your otter was definitely looking peaky.”

“It was _not_! It was perfectly fine when I produced it.”

“Well, it was a bit blurred about the edges. Now, if you’d paid attention, you’d’ve seen that _my_ Mnemon is already showing signs of a distinct personality and sense of humour. The medium-level one swiped my hand just now to alert me of a message.”

“We are _not_ calling it a Mnemon.”

“Oh, and ‘Missivant’ is so much better.”

“At least it won’t make people think it’s a weird kind of lemon!”

“Well, ‘Missivant’ makes me think of ‘miscreant’, and that’s not exactly the kind of association we want.”

“Only _you_ would immediately associate the two.”

“Is that the best insult you can hurl at me? Disappointing. Just like the feeble attempt you made an hour ago to scare me into submission. Really, withholding sex? You _do_ recall that I’m much more adept at causing sexual frustration than you are?”

“That’s because you’re an evil git. Why don’t we try a week without sex and see how you do? If I recall, _I_ wasn’t the one who didn’t reach satiation until the night was over. You would’ve kept me in bed the following morning if I hadn’t insisted on meals and washroom breaks.”

“As the more-than-willing party in that bit of romping, you are hardly in the position to complain.”

“Whatever. You and your ego just go on thinking that. I’m serious, Malfoy, I’m really tired. Go away and let me sleep.”

“You can’t possibly think the tests we did to verify the capabilities of our creation somehow made you ill. The series of jolts may have singed your hair a bit, but they were hardly strong enough to induce vomiting. Or, perhaps, they addled your brains. Did you vomit your brains out just now?”

“Your concern is so touching, Mr. Malodorous Malfoy.”

“ _Definitely_ lost brain cells. I’m the better-smelling of the two of us; everyone knows that. Remember the wedding gift Loopy Loony gave us? And you’re definitely sick with some sort of bug. I’m getting a Healer.”

“No need. I know what it is. The most virulant parasite known to wizardkind.”

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s vain, glory-seeking, undisciplined, snarky, arrogant, and exasperating, a Malfoy just like its father and all its forefathers. I don’t know why I’m putting up with either of you.”

The look of confusion on Draco’s face was slowly replaced with incredulity and then elation. Striding forward to remove the remaining distance between them, he sat on the edge of Hermione’s bed and gathered her into his arms in a fierce embrace. He whooped in triumph. 

Hermione smirked into his shoulder. She decided that she would let him name their creation a Mnemon. Once he agreed to let her name their first child.

**Author's Note:**

> The phrase about woman and hair is a deliberate misquote of Shakespeare. The long recitation is from Aristotle’s The Organon.
> 
> (modified from original version submitted for fest. had a rethink about draco's mnemon.)


End file.
